


Speechless

by lemonskies



Category: BioShock 1 & 2 (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Begging, Dubious Consent, Edging, Light Bondage, M/M, boys im committing fandom necromancy, no one's gonna read this but that's fine, reviving this fandom from the dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 11:22:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21445414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemonskies/pseuds/lemonskies
Summary: It would’ve been so easy to throw in a quick ‘would you kindly?’ and ask Jack to talk to him, and Atlas did like himself an easy way out, but where was the fun in that? It would be so much more fun to force every noise from Jack’s pretty mouth, to get him so desperate and high strung that he couldn’t do anything but beg. Now that would be a lovely sight.
Relationships: Atlas/Jack (BioShock)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 192





	Speechless

**Author's Note:**

> -strums guitar- this is porn

Jack never spoke to Atlas. Not a single word since the moment he had picked up the radio and stepped out of the bathysphere. At first Atlas hadn’t been too bothered with it, simply assuming that the sheer shock of what happened to him was enough to keep him quiet for a bit, but then as Atlas continued to guide him through Rapture Jack would just… stay quiet. Nothing but harsh panting, pained cries and quiet moans that sounded slightly too sexual crackled through the radio, and despite Jack’s obvious pain as he made those noises Atlas couldn’t help but get a little bit aroused at the sound of them. And maybe he wanted to hear them more often.

That was not the point, though. The point was that Atlas was starting to become frustrated with Jack’s eternal silence, and how it felt like he was always speaking to a brick wall. He knew the radio was two-way, on account of the noises, so that meant that Jack was actively choosing not to speak to him, for whatever reason that may be.

It would’ve been so easy to throw in a quick ‘would you kindly?’ and ask Jack to talk to him, and Atlas did like himself an easy way out, but where was the fun in that? It would be so much more fun to force every noise from Jack’s pretty mouth, to get him so desperate and high strung that he couldn’t do anything but beg. Now _that_ would be a lovely sight.

There was nothing pretty or lovely about what Jack was doing at that moment, though. It was violent and brutal and messy. The way Jack changed in the heat of battle was like a work of art. He went from a nervous kid, shivering and trembling as he made his way through Rapture, to the cold killing-machine he was designed to be. His brain flipped like a light switch and his hands stopped shaking as he fired his gun. He shot a splicer point-blank in the face with no hesitation and no mercy and it was enough to make a grown man wince, but Atlas wasn’t just any man, and with every splicer that Jack brutally ripped through he was brought a little closer to his own victory.

Despite all that, though, Jack was starting to become a little more sluggish, the lack of food and rest clearly taking a toll on him, and Atlas figured this was as good a time as any to set his plan into motion.

“Hey, boyo, you seem to be in a pretty rough shape,” he said through the radio, and once again there was no response from the other side. Jack looked up at one of the security cameras, acknowledging that he did, in fact, hear what Atlas had to say to him, and Atlas felt his blood start to boil. He knew Jack could talk, even if he never said much. Hell, he had entire conversations with the kid before he got sent topside. Maybe “conversations” was a strong word for their communication, but Jack had spoken to him, so Atlas knew for sure that there was nothing wrong with his vocal chords.

The kid was just being a brat.

On the bright side he appeared to be a good listener and he followed all of Atlas’ directions dutifully. Which was just as well, because that’s what Atlas had paid for after all.

* * *

When Jack walked into Atlas’ safehouse it felt just a little bit weird. This hadn’t been part of the plan at all, not the original plan at least, and to see the kid right next to him when he was supposed to keep his distance was strange. Jack, for what it’s worth, seemed to feel just as weird as Atlas. He was nervously clutching the edge of his sweater as he looked around the room. His gaze settled on the security cameras for a bit, before turning to look at Atlas.

“Good to see ya safe and sound, boyo,” Atlas said, and Jack remained silent. “Or… I guess not that sound,” he added, referring to the state the kid was in. His sweater and face were covered in blood and dirt and grime, and he didn’t think he was in much better shape underneath those clothes.

“Take off your sweater,” Atlas ordered, watching Jack’s face twist into a confused frown, and yet he still refused to speak. Atlas had to count to 10 internally before continuing. “How else am I going to patch you up, kid?” That seemed to ease the boy’s nerves somewhat, and in one swift movement he pulled that godawful sweater over his head and dropped it on the floor, exposing his battered and bruised torso. Atlas let out a low whistle at the sight, eyes scanning over the damage. It wasn’t pretty, not even close, but Atlas was also aware that those wounds and cuts wouldn’t be there for much longer.

Jack was a marvel. Every scientists goddamn wet dream. He was made of ADAM, yet nearly entirely unaffected by it, a far cry from those disgusting splicers that were roaming the halls of Rapture, with their brains and bodies all mutated to hell, incapable of coherent thought. No, Jack was almost… pristine, thanks to his unnaturally fast healing. His wounds closed up in no time flat due to the ADAM coursing through his veins, leaving only the faintest of scars.

Atlas offering to patch Jack up was just for show, a way to keep Jack contained in the world that Atlas had created for him.

The springs on his worn-down bed creaked when Jack sat down on it, hunched over slightly with his hands resting on his lap. He looked exhausted, like he had seen too much in too little time and it had suddenly come crashing down on him. A doctor might attribute Jack’s silence to his trauma. The things he had to do and see had taken a toll on him, clearly, and that’s why he refused to speak. Atlas wasn’t a doctor though, and Jack wasn’t really a person. He was a machine, a tool for Atlas to use however he pleased, and if Atlas wanted him to speak then he damn well would.

Atlas grabbed the first-aid kit and sat down next to Jack, and from this close it was hard to deny that Jack was an attractive man, even if he was an infuriating little brat. The most he’d seen of the kid was through shitty, grainy security cam footage, and the last time he’d seen him in person was the day he got sent to the surface, something that felt like ages ago.

With steady hands he got to work on cleaning Jack’s collection of wounds, bandaging them up to the best of his ability, while Jack occasionally let out hisses and groans, his fingers digging into the shitty mattress beneath him.

Finally he stopped and put his hand in the center of Jack’s chest, applying just the barest amount of pressure. “Lie back for a moment,” he said, and Jack did, allowing Atlas to guide him until he was flat on his back. He was so impossibly, beautifully trusting, and Atlas couldn’t wait to take complete advantage of it.

He reached for Jack’s wrists and pinned them above his head, against the mattress. Jack looked concerned, but clearly not concerned enough to say something about it, and all Atlas could do was give Jack his most trustworthy smile and say “Would you kindly keep those there and stay still?”

Jack did what Atlas asked of him, because of course he did, he always did, and watching Jack lie down beneath him, completely still because Atlas told him to, it made him feel powerful in a way very few things could these days. Atlas was used to power, he knew how to wield it and make people tremble before him, but Jack was different.

Jack was powerful in his own right, and Atlas was well aware of it. If it came down to it he was certain that Jack could beat him in a fight, which is why it was so important to keep him subdued and under his control. The kid swung a wrench and people _died_. It was both terrifying and awe-inspiring to see the strength hidden in his body, to watch him lift objects that he logically shouldn’t have been able to lift, to see the way he went toe-to-toe with a big daddy and came out on top. And now, all that power, all that raw strength, was completely at Atlas’ mercy. It was beautiful, in a way, like how a caged tiger was beautiful, and Atlas couldn’t help but admire it for a little while.

“Y’see, boyo…” Atlas said, just as Jack started to fidget nervously, “There’s something that’s been botherin’ me for a while… I’ve been nothin’ but nice to you, talkin’ you through difficult situations and givin’ you advice… The least I’d expect in return is a response…” A defiant look crossed Jack’s features as Atlas spoke and it made Atlas clench his jaw so tight it hurt. A part of him was tempted to just beat the words out of Jack, but he was already injured and he needed Jack to trust him so he could complete his plan.

Instead, he trailed his hand down Jack’s chest, just to watch him squirm, and moved to straddle his thighs. The look in Jack’s eyes stayed the same, though, and it was almost like he was taking Atlas up on his challenge, even when he wasn’t sure what the challenge was. Atlas admired his confidence, but he couldn’t wait to watch him fail.

“You’re going to speak to me,” Atlas said, “and when you do it will be because you’re _begging._” And with that he started undoing Jack’s pants. A blush started colouring the kid’s cheeks and he turned his head to the side as Atlas pushed Jack’s pants and underwear down his legs, leaving him completely naked and exposed to the chilly air of the room.

For as far as Atlas knew, Jack was a virgin. Every moment of his life had been monitored by scientists, and that brief moment of time he was on the surface probably wasn’t long enough for anything to really happen. That little piece of information was good news for Atlas, because Jack’s lack of experience meant he would probably be extremely easy to rile up, and the noise that came out of Jack’s mouth when Atlas put his hand on his cock only proved his point. It was startled and needy, like he’d never felt anything like it before, and it was music to Atlas’ ears.

“That’s what I like to hear,” Atlas purred and started stroking Jack’s cock so slowly it was close to torture, and the look on Jack’s face showed it. His fists clenched and unclenched where they were pinned above his head by an invisible force, and he bit down on his lip to keep from making more noises. It was a cute attempt, but a twist from Atlas’ wrist had him releasing his lip and letting out a broken moan.

The sounds spilling from Jack’s lips were deeply arousing, and before he knew it his cock was straining against his zipper and aching to be touched. He removed his hand from Jack’s cock and placed both his palms on his thighs, evoking a pathetic, needy whine, but still no words. Slowly he spread Jack’s legs and pushed them up to his chest, exposing his most intimate parts for Atlas’ viewing pleasure. His tight, virgin hole looked so inviting, and Atlas saw nothing wrong with playing with his most expensive toy.

Jack’s face was flushed bright red, and Atlas could practically see the tension in his jaw as Atlas’ hands slid further down his thighs. He wasn’t used to this, to being touched in a way that didn’t cause him pain. The memories in his head weren’t real after all, and even if his brain thought he’d felt tenderness, his body knew the difference.

Atlas leaned over to the nightstand next to the bed and reached into the drawer to grab the lube he stashed there. A man had needs after all.

“Deep breaths, Jacky-boy,” Atlas said as he slicked up his fingers and rubbed them against Jack’s rim. Jack wasn’t looking at him at all, eyes closed tightly and his head turned to the side. Both of them were well aware that only a few words could stop everything, but still Jack shook his head and chose to disobey. That was fine, though. It allowed Atlas to have his fun for a while, and for now the desperate noises filling the room were more than enough.

Slowly but surely he pushed one finger into Jack’s body, and Jack let out a sharp gasp in response, a noise that went straight to Atlas’ cock. His patience was wearing thin already, and Jack wasn’t making it any easier for him. He had to hurry this along.

The noise Jack made when Atlas’ finger found his prostate was close to divine, breathy and needy, like he couldn’t tell if it was too much or not enough. His face was slack with pleasure, his bitten lips parted slightly and his breathing coming in soft sighs. Atlas had to be careful, though, because one wrong move and Jack would be cumming like a horny teenager, and Atlas would much rather hear him beg for it.

“Bet that feels good, huh?” Atlas asked, once again targeting Jack’s sweet spot. All Jack could do was moan, his chest heaving like it hurt, and Atlas wished he had a camera to capture this moment. “I can make it feel so much better, all you have to do is ask.” Jack didn’t respond at all that time, too busy trying to control his breathing. His cock was leaking against his stomach, revealing just how desperate he had become.

“No? Nothin’? Alright then…” Atlas briefly removed his fingers from Jack’s body, revelling in the quiet whine it evoked. Jack craved a gentle touch, needed someone to make him feel good instead of hurt, and now that Atlas was giving it to him he couldn’t do anything but submit to it. Atlas would make him beg, though, he’d get him so high-strung that he could no longer hold the words back, and only then would Atlas have mercy on him. Maybe.

Atlas slicked up his cock and placed one hand on Jack’s thigh again, feeling the muscles twitch beneath his palm. The head of his cock nudged against Jack’s rim, and Jack’s fists clenched again as he hid his face in the pillow. Atlas didn’t wait for Jack, though, he simply took what he wanted, and with one smooth thrust he pushed into Jack’s tight body. A breathy groan escaped from his lungs as he did, but it didn’t compare to the choked noise that Jack let out.

He was bigger than just three fingers, he was well aware of that, and the stretch had to burn, at least a little, but Jack was taking it like a champ. His breathing was getting shallower, but it stopped nearly entirely when Atlas put his hand on Jack’s cock again. For a moment Atlas thought the kid might cum right then and there, but somehow he managed to keep it together, and Atlas knew they were playing a dangerous game. He pulled his hand away again, and Jack outright _whimpered_.

“Good boy,” he purred, and without warning he started moving, a slow pace that was designed to tease rather than satisfy, and the look on Jack’s face showed it. Atlas was a patient man when he wanted to be, he’d patiently waited for Jack for _years_ after all, and he had no doubt that he could wait Jack out.

With every thrust of Atlas’ hips Jack seemed to get a little more desperate and a lot more frustrated. He couldn’t move, invisible bonds keeping him in place, and it seemed to only add to his frustration that he couldn’t even reach down to touch himself. He was totally, completely at Atlas’ mercy, and Atlas didn’t have any to spare.

“Want me to touch you?” He asked, moving both hands to grip Jack’s slim hips, digging his fingers into flesh hard enough to leave bruises. Jack looked conflicted, but that look was quickly wiped off his face when the head of Atlas’ cock hit his sweet spot, and a high-pitched moan filled the room. Jack’s walls squeezed around him, and Atlas couldn’t help but groan as well at the tight heat surrounding him so perfectly. “You know what I want, Jack.” Atlas leaned in so his lips were right next to Jack’s ear, and he felt the kid shiver beneath him.

No response.

Fine. It looked like Atlas would have to step up his game.

Despite Jack’s lack of response he wrapped his fingers around his cock anyway, stroking him in time with his thrusts just to drive him out of his mind. It was working, too, looking at the way Jack was squirming and moaning, hips bucking up into Atlas’ touch in an attempt to get more friction on his aching cock.

Atlas had been with enough people to know the general signs of when someone was getting close, and Jack was like an open book to him. His moans got higher in pitch, his body tensing up significantly, and just as it appeared he was about to cum, Atlas stopped touching him. The next noise out of Jack’s mouth was almost a sob and Atlas was pretty sure he saw tears welling up in his eyes.

A lesser man would’ve called it quits right there and then, but Jack seemed to have an impossible amount of determination, and Atlas wanted to watch him break.

When it seemed that Jack had calmed down a little he put his hand back on Jack’s cock and started stroking again. This time Jack seemed to brace himself, as if he knew what would come next, and he was right. Just like last time he took his time to rile Jack up, mercilessly exploiting every weak spot he could find until Jack was trembling beneath him, breath hitching with need, but he didn’t give him the release he so desperately craved.

He kept that cycle up a few more times, until Jack was honest to god sobbing. Tears fell down his cheeks, his chest heaving with every breath. He had to be so hard it hurt by then, his cock leaking steadily onto his flat stomach, and Atlas had never seen a more beautiful sight. There was no way Jack could keep this up much longer, not when Atlas traced one finger along Jack’s cock and a tortured noise was forced from his lungs.

“Beg,” Atlas ordered, and that’s what finally broke Jack.

“P-ple-ase,” his voice sounded rough from disuse, and broken with need, and Atlas swore he nearly came from the sound of it.

“Good boy…” Jack’s cock twitched at the praise, and that was information Atlas carefully filed away for later. “But I think you can do better.” He snapped his hips forward, his cock nudging against Jack’s prostate again, and Jack’s next words were nearly a moan.

“Ple-ease touch me, Atlas. I-I need….” Jack sobbed, a frustrated, pathetic sound. “Need to… to…” His face heated up, like he didn’t want to say it, _couldn’t_ say it. Atlas almost felt sorry for him, but not sorry enough to give in just like that. He wanted to let the kid suffer a little for denying him so long, and suffer he did. “_Ican’tIcan’tIcan’t_.” It was silent for a few moments, as if Jack was trying to catch his breath, and then. “_Please!_”

That’s what Atlas had been waiting for.

He picked up the pace, fucking into Jack brutally like he’d been wanting to do from the start, finally taking his own pleasure. He knew he wouldn’t last long, not after all the teasing he did, but he was nowhere near as far gone as Jack. It only took one firm stroke to get him to the edge, and another to push him over. Jack was trembling all over as he spilled his release all over his own chest with a loud sob of relief. It was messy and needy and perfect and Atlas almost wanted to see it again, but he knew he couldn’t.

The noise Jack let out as he finally came was enough to send Atlas hurtling towards the edge as well, and only a couple thrusts later he felt that familiar heat pooling in his guts. Jack’s overstimulated whimpers weren’t helping, and neither was the way he was squirming weakly, as if trying to get away from the sensations. In the end Atlas never stood a chance.

With a low moan and a sharp thrust of his hips he came as well, and his head was spinning from the intensity of it.

Jack looked like a mess beneath him, flushed all the way down to his chest, his own cum starting to dry on his stomach. His hands were still raised above his head, but with a quick command that was taken care of and Jack was freed from his bonds. Well, these particular bonds.

There was no way Jack could go back into the bowels of Rapture any time soon, and Atlas figured he might as well enjoy the brief moments they had together. It didn’t change the fact that Jack was a tool, though; a means to an end, but Atlas couldn’t deny that he was easy on the eyes, and he didn’t mind having a pretty thing to look at for a while.

“Did you learn your lesson?” Atlas asked as he pulled out, watching cum spill down Jack’s thighs.

“Fuck you,” Jack gasped, but at least it was better than silence.


End file.
